Knight of the Underworld
by nightmarecircles
Summary: After sacrificing himself to save his loved ones, an Innistrad native planeswalker named Tristan finds himself on Theros. More specifically, the Underworld. When his mind is attacked by a strange force he forgets his time as a cathar of Avacyn and becomes a champion of Erebos. He must use the curse that made him a pariah on Innistrad to punish those who defy death on Theros.
1. Ordeal of Erebos

"Evil will be extinguished!" Tristan shouted as he unleashed his spell. Shock waves reverberated throughout Devil's Breach. Cultists and devils alike exploded into dust as the roof of the cavern began to collapse.

The young cathar felt more blood rush from his wounds. _Those were pretty fine last words._ He thought. His eyes reflected only peace and he smirked as he fell to his hands and knees. _Too bad no one was here to write those down. _He had always been curious to see what dying felt like. He'd seen so many people die and they always had pain and fear in their faces but here he was smirking at a cave in. His vision began to fade when a heat ignited in his chest. Strangely it didn't hurt. It felt nice, like the night he became a full-fledged cathar, excitement and pride mixed with anxiety. Before he could reminisce, it felt like his body was flung by the chest.

* * *

Tristan's first planeswalk had landed him violently in the Underworld of Theros. He appeared suspended several feet in the open air. He crash landed on what felt like a wooden boat. Something splashed aboard, but it definitely wasn't water. It was sickly yellow, it stank, and it sizzled on the wood of the ferry. A couple of clay masked strangers toppled free from the ferry and straight towards the stinking river. It seemed over for them until a gnarled white hand swept down and caught them. Despite its withered appearance, it was large and strong enough to hold both people. It delivered them safely back onboard.

Tristan sat up as his eyes followed the arm back up to its owner. A figure shrouded in a tattered veil stood behind the boat, towering over several of the dark clouds that filled the sky. The Innistrad native had never seen anything like it. It was humanoid but huge. It was calm but intimidating. It was ragged but awe-inspiring. Everywhere shadows fell on the behemoth they flickered with images of the night sky. It shimmered in green starlight and the glowing river.

"What is that?" Tristan whispered to another passenger, an older woman adorned with a clay mask. She didn't seem to notice Tristan at all. He looked around and saw that every passenger he could see was wearing a strange clay mask. Some were plain replicas of people's faces but others were more decorative.

"Athreos." Another passenger whispered, "God of Passage." A girl about his age squirmed and shoved aside the masked passengers. She sat down next to him. She looked tired; her long unkempt black hair lied mostly on her back but many strands found their way in front of her face. "I'm Ikana."

"God? Passage?" Tristan twisted his face in confusion and fear. Anytime he had run into something new it had tried to kill him. He just prayed to Avacyn he hadn't been noticed by the shrouded monstrosity yet. His wounds were fresh and he was out of energy.

"You poor boy. Grief has taken your wits from you. You are dead and Athreos is delivering you to your last resting place beyond this, the fifth River that rings the world. The final step before the Underworld." She touched the side of his face gently. Her face and body language showed so much pity. "No mask. You didn't even have a funeral." She looked on the verge of tears.

Being dead made sense, but all this underworld talk and rivers and gods sent Tristan's head spinning. Did he not earn the Blessed Sleep? Or maybe there wasn't such a thing as the blessed sleep. Maybe all those who died were here among the strange-looking passengers of the ferry, unable to find rest. He cursed losing his weapons in the cultist's cave.

All Tristan's bewilderment shattered when Ikana frantically whispered, "Oh no!" She began trying to lift Tristan but he couldn't stand. "Athreos has taken interest in you. You aren't dead either are you?" Ikana noticed the steadily growing puddle of blood around Tristan. "You aren't dead, but you might be if you don't let me look at your wounds." Despite his many objections the feeble looking Ikana began unbuttoning his slashed up coats.

Thin red lines in sets of three littered Tristan's pale chest. The devils back on Innistrad had not been kind. There were so many for every one he struck down two more would swoop in and slash him with their claws. A cultist had also given him a deep gash across his stomach with a ritual dagger.

The sight of blood and lacerations didn't faze Ikana the slightest. "I snagged some of this from the temple of Pharika." She pulled a wooden bowl from her leather side pouch. She twisted off the lid and picked up a glob of gray paste in her first and second finger. "This is going to be excruciating. If you start to black out, don't fight it. There's no fighting anything anymore. Surrender. We both belong to Erebos now."

* * *

A pale hand with sickly long fingernails brushed across Tristan's face. The world around him spun and undulated with black mist. The cathar couldn't feel anything but the clawed hand and the intense cold enveloping and piercing him. The raft, Ikana, Athreos, and Devil's Breach felt like a distant memory. He realized he had blacked out. This was a dream, a nightmare.

"Innistrad? A personal favorite of mine, but your zeal will get you killed here cathar. Forget all you know of home. Avacyn has forsaken you. Despair." The voice came from the claw at first but it jumped around. It flew behind him, above him, even within him.

He had nightmares in the past but nothing like this. He felt himself being torn apart mentally and physically. Avacyn has abandoned me. Colin and Sophie escaped but without me or Avacyn to protect them they're as good as dead.

"All truths. Give me your fear, your pain, and your memories. Your nightmares are many and powerful. But you have so much potential for more. So forget her. Death is your lord now. When we meet next, I'll return to you your nightmares one thousand fold."

Tristan could hear chuckling in the distance as he felt himself awaken.

* * *

The stench of the sulfurous river woke Tristan quite unpleasantly. "Rise." A thousand voices commanded. Above them all a bitter angry voice spoke loudest.

He was lying on his back on what felt more like ash than dirt. He slowly opened his eyes, savoring his last moments of blissful ignorance. The sky above him was dark gray with no sun or stars. Above him rested dark clouds that could actually be smoke for all he knew. There didn't seem to be a clear line where clouds ended and smoke began around here.

"Rise!" Whoever the voices were, they didn't like him taking his time.

Wincing in pain the Tristan stood. Expecting an army, he was face to face with Ikana. She held her arms folded around her body, her hands holder her sides in pain. She had her eyes closed tightly and fresh tears slid down her pained face. He took a cautious step forward.

Ikana's eyes flung open and from them poured twinkling stars against a pitch black aura. Like before when he had seen Athreos but instead of sickly green they were and overbearing deep purple.

The countless voices spoke through Ikana. "What are you doing in my realm, mortal? Another rescue attempt no doubt." Cold gripped Tristan from the inside. It was as though his heart was replaced by a block of ice without him noticing. The pain brought him to a knee; he extended an arm towards Ikana for help.

"Stop it! He doesn't know anything!" Ikana managed to overpower the stars shining in her eyes for a brief moment and the cold disappeared and air returned to Tristan's lungs.

"It would seem Ikana isn't lying. She showed me your entrance to my underworld." The voices rang from Ikana once more. "How did you fall from the sky?"

Tristan could only cough and hold his wounds. Ikana, or whatever had a hold of her, scowled impatiently. A loud whipcrack echoed from seemingly everywhere.

"I was seeking you out God of Death. I cannot recall a time before my fall but I seek an ordeal."

Ikana's face twisted in a pain wracked smile. "Oh? Why is that mortal?"

"All things die. Death is order. Death brings peace, brings order. I want to help you maintain the law of death. Those who perverse this system we be brought to you by my hand. Give me an ordeal; I want to fight for you!" The cold poured out of Tristan. He knew he had persuaded Erebos.

"So be it, Tristan. There are those who claim gorgons know the secret of immortality, that my sister Pharika has given them freedom from my realm. There is a temple in a cave on the edge of the Nessian forest. Go there and prove that I am inevitable. Show them no one escapes my world."

The stars lurched from Ikana's eyes and drifted into the smoke clouds. Tristan stood to catch her as she fell. "Oracle of my lord." He whispered. "He needs you alive."

"Please don't go. They've done nothing wrong. Please." She pleaded despite nearly dying from being a conduit for the god of the underworld. Ikana seemed so confused looking at him now. "Are you the same man from the ferry?"

Tristan responded with silence. He placed her gently on a nearby hill. As he walked towards the exit of the underworld he muttered to himself. "Only Erebos is eternal."

* * *

The map the priests of Erebos had given Tristan made finding the temple of Pharika barely easier. Since he was approved by their god, they had equipped him with a hooded cloak trimmed with gold. Followers of Erebos kept to a strict uniform so everyone knew to leave them alone and as a stark reminder of ther mortality.

His orange eyes reflected the sunlight as he looked around. _Forests. All the same in every direction. How animals navigate these things I'll never understand._

"Where are you blasphemers?" He mumbled to the quiet forest. It was oddly still among the trees, as though the beasts of the Nessian forests recognized his attire and knew to keep their distance.

"You stink of death and unfamiliar wilds." A voice spoke sweetly from behind him. A green woman with long hair made of leaves emerges magically from an ancient tree in front of Tristan. She shone with the starlight of Nyx as all gods and their envoys did. "My lady seeks to remove you from her lands." The dryad's sweet voice was no less threatening as she glared at him.

"Believe me; no one wants me out of here more than me." Tristan spoke the truth. He couldn't remember ever being in a forest but he had the strong feeling he had a bad experience in one. His mind itched as he struggled to recall anything.

"Then leave before I have to make you." The dryad threatened as she clenched her fists.

"I am tasked with an ordeal. I am hunting the cult of Pharika in this land. The gorgon, Hythea, claims she is beyond the whip of Erebos. I have come to correct her." Tristan explained. He pulled the hood from his head revealing the determination in his eyes.

"Nylea knows of Hythea. She litters the land with the statues of her prey. Nylea despises these but the gorgon refuses to move them, thinking herself higher than the gods. I will lead you to her but when she petrifies you try to keep your body on the outside of the tree line." The dryad snickered and vanished into the earth. Blades of grass where she stood shimmered with star shine and formed a pathway into the deep woods.

* * *

The journey was calm, animals kept their distance and the dryad remained a silent pathway for Tristan. _Erebos and the map said Hythea was on the edge of the forest. Why is this nymph guiding me the wrong way?_

The snap of twigs brought Tristan to attention. _How did I lose track of myself? Damn leaf-hair led me astray._ He stood in a battle pose, an invisible pole arm pointed in the direction of the sound. Before he could question why his reflexes chose this form an eerily familiar growl surrounded him.

"Wolves." Tristan spat the word with hatred. He was correct three wolves were circling him, all growling and baring their teeth.

The wolf behind him jumped for Tristan's leg. He spun that leg away from its attacker. He planted it firmly in the dirt and struck the wolf in the thigh with his fist. The sensation of wolf fur sent chills down his arm. Memories flashed through Tristan's brain too quick to process. The feel, the smell, and the growls all felt like things he'd experienced dozens of times in the past. Understanding would have to wait. Three hungry wolves wanted him dead.

Without permission from his mind, Tristan's hand reached down into the wolf's shadow, it disappeared up to the wrist. He pulled his arm out and gripped tightly in his hand was a pitch black whip. He arced his arm around and cracked his whip on the second wolf's face.

_Umbramancy?_ Tristan's eyes went wide. _That's right. Shadows bend to my will_. From the whip handle an inky black tendril squirmed in the air in response to Tristan's thoughts.

He glared and whipped the third wolf in the rips. Flesh tore easily from its side and it yelped in pain. The three wolves stood around him, all injured and whimpering. Black mana pooled inside the agent of Erebos as he readied himself.

"Stop! They are not your prey." The sweet voice of the dryad rang out. She materialized in front of Tristan once again. "You passed the trial. I will lead you to Hythea."

The whip wrapped around the nymph's neck. Wherever it touched the star field painted on her body it too shone with the glory of Nyx. "Why?" Tristan growled.

She gagged, "Nylea is sick of the petrified bodies of fools like you in her forest. They are an eyesore. The wolves would have made a meal of you and the rest fed the soil."

He tightened the whip. "Fool me again and I will bring hand of Erebos down on every wolf in this forest." The tendril uncurled and melted into Tristan's shadow. "Now lead!" He roared.

* * *

The smell of incense was strong at the mouth of the cave leading to the temple of malady and Tristan's target, Hythea. The dryad's sweet voice shuddered with unease, "I can go no further. That belongs to Pharika. Though I am sure I will see your face again, frozen in fear once Hythea delivers you above ground."

"Thank you for the words of confidence, nymph." Tristan shoved her aside and entered the cavern.

As he walked down the narrow passageway he sent his shadow ahead in the form of a shade. It crept across the walls and ceiling putting out torches and searching for traps. Tristan had crossed three snake pits and two walls that fired poison arrows before running into three green robed women.

"Take me to Hythea." Tristan demanded. Shadowy fingers stretched unseen in the darkness; closing in on the disciples of Pharika.

"Our mistress has beaten death without bending a knee to him. The jealousy of Erebos is laughable." One of the hooded women joked. The other two to her sides giggled.

Anger rose up in Tristan's gut. The tendrils lashed out, entangled them and dragged them to his sides. "Where is Hythea!? Tell me now and they live!"

"Who lives? My pets?" The robes next to Tristan went limp. Snakes from within them charged straight to Tristan. He shredded them with blades of darkness but the woman escaped deeper into the cave.

Tristan snarled and continued his trek. Pharika's people were tricky. She was the god of poisons which meant any wound from them would likely be immediately fatal.

Something splashed under Tristan's sandal. It stank. Pharika was also the god of potions. Her servants had access to all manner of alchemic tricks.

A dim torch flickered further down the hall. "Erebos is declawed." The woman from before threw her torch to the ground and the entire chamber caught fire. She must have cooked up something flammable to dispel the darkness.

Tristan leapt back towards the darkness but the woman was smart. He was surrounded by flames on all sides. She charged him, easily dodging the flames she made. A foot away from her target she revealed twin daggers still dripping with poison. Tristan managed to grab her forearms. He needed to stall her to bring up a shade with this much light around him.

He managed to conjure two tendrils from the shadows on his hands. They plunged into the woman's wrists and she dropped the daggers into Tristan's waiting hands. She grabbed him by the arms, blood pouring from her wrists. They had exchanged positions but Tristan was stronger and less wounded. He lifted a leg and kicked her in the stomach, knocking her to her back amongst the fire.

"Tell Erebos I'll be finished with my ordeal soon." Tristan commanded as he brought the daggers into her shoulders. She screamed but it was cut short by foam and blood.

* * *

"Another lackey of Erebos." Hythea hissed as Tristan ascended the steps toward her altar. She was adorned with gold jewelry and a wide brimmed hat that obscured her eyes. "I was afraid he had given up, I needed one more of you fools to complete my latest work of art."

Sunlight filtered into the altar room from above. Tristan had assumed there was a passage to the forest for Hythea to set up her 'works of art.'

"I call it, Arrogance of the Gods. Fools like you and all manner of Nylea's rodents have been assailing me for years. Mortals should not associate themselves with those kinds of gods. They care nothing for us anyway." Hythea contorted her face in disgust as she spoke of gods. "You must come from a polis. You've seen how gods can properly influence mortals, just as Pharika has influenced me."

"I'm not here to listen to you preach. I'm here to bring order to this world. Death brings finality. Finality is needed to keep egomaniacs like you in check." Tristan shouted. He sent two sharp tendrils toward the gorgon but she batted them away like they were ribbons.

"So be it." Hythea mumbled. She darted at him; her snakelike body was quicker than Tristan thought it should be. She swung her claws at his face and he countered with dark tendrils. She was stronger than she looked too. Tristan didn't think he could win this if things didn't change.

One of Hythea's claws found Tristan's arm. Blood sprayed from gorgon's hat down to the floor. Tristan gritted his teeth and brought a thin line of shadow from his hand to hers. It tangled her claw still stabbing into his arm. She smiled. She was much stronger than him. She pulled him closer. His forehead pressed up against her hat. He could almost see her face; he would be turned to stone at this rate.

Another tendril wrapped around Hythea's free wrist and pulled it aside. Once again she overpowered the darkness but it had given Tristan enough time to get his hand under her hat. He felt his hand grasp her face.

"No one is immortal." The shade cast by her wide hat condensed into a solid mass around her head. She flung him across the chamber and into the altar shattering it. She clawed over and over again at the thick mass of darkness cutting off her access to air. Again and again it compressed over her head, each time coming closer to shattering her skull.

Hythea's muffled screams cut short with a sickly crack. Her head was crushed completely. Blood slowly trickled from beneath the shadow mass.

Tristan sighed heavily. His heart was pounding in his throat but he began to relax. He followed the few rays of sunlight until he stood in a clearing in the Hessian forest. He was encircled by statues of men and women clearly from the cult of Erebos.

He pushed one down and it shattered against the forest floor. Holding the cuts on his arm he smirked, "I don't get art."

With that he demolished the remaining petrified bodies. It was better than standing out in the forest. _This way their souls may make it to the underworld. May Avacyn deliver you the blessed sleep._

Tristan couldn't recall what that meant but his mind went immediately there as he brought the peace of death. His mind itched again but he shook off. He had a long journey back to the underworld ahead of him and no time to question his frequently strange reflexes.


	2. Champion of Erebos

Athreos rowed silently as Tristan sat among the freshly deceased on the ferry. They shuffled blindly in the darkness, their eyes further obscured by clay masks. The fully realized champion of Erebos gazed in mutual silence at the God of Passage. He had grown a great respect for Athreos, the way he dutifully managed the care of the dead and order in the underworld was admirable. He never complained. His ego never got in his way, there was only the task. _And what a task! The noble enforcement of the order and finality of life and death._

It had taken a while, but after several trips across the rivers Tristan began to notice the measures that Athreos took to fulfill his duty. It was a beautiful subversion of the rules used to more efficiently uphold them. Skeletal griffins perched on rocks, keeping eye for straggling dead. Golden helmed zombie soldiers marched tirelessly around the perimeter. These undead precautions kept the living from trespassing into the underworld and the dead from escaping as "the Returned."

_What a cute name for those who defy death. They were blasphemers and abominations, all of them._ The priests of Athreos that waited at the river's edge had explained the process of 'returning' to Tristan. It was overly complex but he had understood enough. When any sentient race dies they transfer to the underworld. To escape, said deceased must sacrifice their identity and memories. Essentially they had to split their souls from their bodies. This created two undead creatures, a returned and an eidolon, zombie and a spirit. _A ghoul and a geist…_

Tristan's mind itched again. Whenever thoughts of his unknown past brought strange words to his mind it itched painfully. This itching would become an intense burning sensation unless shaken away by changing his focus, usually to his duty.

Due to his seething hatred of the returned, Erebos tasked him with eliminating the undead. He had gone on several raids of both necropoleis and was returning to Erebos now to ask permission for an encampment on the Setessa border. An unusual amount of returned sightings had taken place near several farms.

A piercing shriek echoed further downriver. A skeletal griffon sentry spotted something. Tristan and the sentry seated at the side of Athreos turned immediately. Before the lost ones could shuffle to face the sound Tristan had mounted the sentry and they were both in the dull gray sky. They were at the scene almost instantly. Despite lacking real wings the sentries of the underworld flew at terrifying speeds. Tristan joked that they were propelled by Athreos' sense of duty.

"Set up a perimeter. No one escapes." Tristan commanded his mount. He smirked and tumbled from the skeleton's back.

In the underworld, black mana was everywhere. Tristan never felt more powerful than he did under the sunless starless sky. He conjured shadows from under his robes. He had claimed several golden masks from his kills. He had six gold mask trophies on his body. Three tied into his robe. One mask sat on each knee like armor. The last was his favorite; it was from the lead zombie in a raid party on a leonin camp. It was a returned minotaur. It had come back to its stomping grounds in life that was now occupied by leonin.

The shadows emerged into the dull light and enveloped his arms. Giant black avian wings exploded from his shoulders. Several mighty flaps of his new wings and the champion of Erebos was on the ashen ground by the cloaked person the sentry had spotted. As he landed the shade wings lost their form and danced to his right hand and became an intimidating whip.

He cracked the whip and demanded, "Who dares mock the god Erebos?" Tristan flicked his wrist and the whip wrapped around the perpetrator's cloak. Another flick yanked it from its owner.

"Erebos is no god! He is a bully and kidnapper!" Ikana shouted as she turned to Tristan.

"Oracle Ikana?" Surprised, the words tumbled accidentally from his mouth.

"He took me from my parents, from my temple! From Pharika, my true god!" She shouted while holding back tears.

Tristan didn't know what to do, Ikana had saved him on the ferry, and hers was the only human name he recalled in the murk of his mind. They had grown close, they talked every time he came back to get orders from Erebos. She was his oracle, she had the duty to be his eyes, ears, and voice in the mortal realm.

The underworld went still. A beam of Nyx light poured into the sky above the horizon. It filled up the space like water pouring into a humanoid cast. Detail began to form and before long Erebos himself stood. He was an unfathomably large gray skinned man from the chest up. Twin golden masks and a wrap of purple cloth adorned his shoulders. The space down to his hips was a thin star filled spinal column. His arms were obscured by loose sleeves made from much more of the purple cloth. The openings dangled from his hand below the horizon. In one of them he held his whip Mastix. From the handle the lash arced and twisted around him. Tristan couldn't see the end of it. Both sides of his bald head had large twisting horns with still more fabric cascading from them.

The God of the Dead's eyes opened and Nyx filled smoke billowed from them. He opened his mouth and sorrow seemed to flow out across the underworld. His voice was the moaning of the damned mixed with the screams of the dying.

"He means to congratulate you on catching me." Ikana muttered furiously. "I had gotten rid of two sentries before that one made a sound." She kicked a nearby cask of gold. Brought by the deceased, treasure littered the underworld but was claimed as Erebos. The god didn't value gold but he enjoyed the sight of it. To him it represented his power. Mortals spend their lives gathering wealth, but his collection of gold reminded them it won't keep them from his land.

"He says you've done so well these past few months. He says you are the perfect champion. Your immediate acceptance of your amnesia teaches other mortals that he is a god of acceptance. The prayers have flowed in nicely." Ikana made a face of mockery as she translated for the god. Erebos no longer made her suffer to communicate; he thought she had been humbled. Tristan felt sorrow knowing she would be punished for trying to escape.

"You honor me lord. I actually have something I'd like to ask of you." Tristan's voice trembled. Standing beneath the true form of a god, especially this god, made something deep inside him afraid.

"He means to reward you for your deeds champion." Ikana interrupted loudly. She managed to crack a smile at Tristan's expense. She thought it was funny when Erebos requested she interrupt people. It made her feel powerful she had admitted.

"The duty is the reward." Tristan chimed in. "I ask permission to set up an outpost by Setessa. I have heard too many rumors of very organized returned lurking around there. I need to protect the farmlands from these monsters."

"He agrees to a point." Ikana interrupted with another grin. "He also admits that this reward will help you perform your duty. And I think it's not really a reward at all…" Ikana winced as she spoke the last sentence. Erebos didn't like her to add her own ideas while being his voice.

Erebos' god-voice intensified. Moans almost drowned out by screams of suffering as the whip of Erebos, Mastix, twisted and crawled in the air like a massive serpent preparing to strike. The frayed end of the whip encroached on the two living mortals in the underworld.

"Take it Tristan. Use my whip to remind the poleis they truly belong to me." The thousand voices were pouring loudly from Ikana now. "Go to Setessa as you requested but do not linger. Use Mastix. Clean the land. But save no one. The fates' blade lingers on the threads of those mortals. Their time is near, they belong to me. Once the insults to my reign finish with the farmhands and warriors slay them, but not a moment before." Erebos' form exploded into a Nyx-field and vanished.

Tristan's heart sank into his gold sandals. Mastix resonated with power in his hand. It had slithered there while he was fighting back anger listening to Erebos. He understood that all mortals die, why did it matter when. During his missions as a champion he'd seen many in danger and rescued them all. Erebos must have learned and found it unpleasant. Tristan didn't know why he was compelled to keep humans safe but he didn't care to fight it. It made him feel good in fact. But he accepted his orders, resigned those Setessan people to their fates in his mind. He didn't utter a word until he was once again under the night sky.

* * *

"Dammit!" Tristan whispered intensely. He was hidden just outside a farm. The golden wheat shimmered in the Nyx light. This beautiful scene was going to be bloodstained soon enough. HE had watched the mostly male group of farmhands working the fields, while the exclusively female warriors patrolled the perimeter. He had managed to sneak past in the thicker brush of the forest nearby.

That was how they did it in Setessa. The women ran everything and what few men stayed were tasked with work in the fields, tending to the plethora of children, and training animals. There where animals and children everywhere in Setessa, whose borders blended with the forest. It took a lot to keep the animals off Tristan's scent. He would scare them into fleeing and find a new hiding place.

The workers had gathered the crops and were enjoying some down time before resuming chores at sunrise. Everything here was making Tristan's mind itch. Every patrolling warrior, every girl, and every farmhand glistening in the light made Tristan's mind itch. _Did I know a fierce warrior woman before I was taken to the underworld? Did I have a daughter? I'm hoping I knew a few guys like these before I lost my mind. If I was with just one man like that before I wouldn't care what else my life was._

"Did you hear that?" A Setessan warrior barked as she turned to the woods. Before she could shush the animals and others she was full of arrows.

Tristan fought his instinct to fight. He wanted to jump down from the tree post and shred every gray skinned zombie in those woods. The sight of the woman's blood made his skin burn. _They belong to Erebos. It is not my place to defy his divine understanding._

The other patrolling warriors jumped to formation. Two ran to go warn the farmhands in their quarters.

_That's not going to work. They are monsters not another army and not wild animals. Monsters fight differently, you can't predict._

Tristan was correct, more arrows poured from all around them. The undead charged after that. Oddly coordinated and oddly unmasked gray skinned soldiers swarmed the Setessans. Tristan didn't look but the sounds were stomach turning. A shriek of terror from a girl made Tristan open his eyes.

She was running toward the zombies screaming the name of one of the warriors. It must have been her mother. A tall fit man ran after her but he was too far back and the returned had looked to her. He wouldn't reach her before the undead. Even if he did, they would both die anyway.

The warriors fought bravely against the undead but none of them could break ranks and rescue the child. Tristan started grinding his teeth. Sweating profusely he looked away again. A tear fell from his eye and his mind caught fire.

His field of vision turned to a colorless view of Nyx. _Did I fall out of the tree? _He turned his head. _No. It's Nyx as far as I can see._ A shape appeared and slowly formed into the familiar silhouette of Athreos' ferry. It drifted to him on an invisible river. The dark wood of the ferry glistened with greenish Nyx as it passed below his floating body. Only a Setessan woman and human sized version of Athreos stood onboard. Athreos looked up at Tristan and his tattered veil fell to his feet. The god's face was replaced with a spiraling nebula of Nyx spun and grew. It pulled him in. Dragged him down and he understood.

"Sophie! Colin! Get out of here!" Tristan screamed as he crashed Mastix down on the two returned charging the girl. The whip eradicated the undead, their gold swords clattered to the dirt.

Farmhands, children, warriors, and even the returned stood dumbfounded. Above Tristan the sky shifted and danced. Stars flew and shapes began to gather. Tristan had an audience of the divine. He couldn't tell what watched him, and he didn't care.

Tristan spun and whipped undead off the Setessans.

"Form a ring! You two, run like hell!" Tristan was shouting orders like they were lines he had memorized. It felt natural. "Shield help more than swords! It takes one bite to kill you! Focus on blocking! Spears up!"

Tristan's authoritative tone bolstered the warriors. They appeared to be trainees, not experienced enough to think midfight. They needed a commander and Tristan would give them one. He looked to the first victim of the returned attack. _No one else is going to die tonight!_

The Setessan defense stood as Tristan wielded Mastix against the returned. The shadow of every Setessan spear darted into the air. A wall of shadow lances encircled the Setessans striking out at every monster that encroached, until they kept their distance.

The returned stood still. The sudden pause brought a suspicious calm to the battlefield. A dark force echoed beyond the tree line.

"Run!" Tristan's voice was loud and his eyes were wide with fear. "Run to your homes! Get your leaders!"

The warriors broke rank and scampered towards the polis. The undead did not give chase. They were waiting for whatever was in the woods to show up. The Setessans had all made it out alive when it broke the tree line flanked by a dozen masked returned.

Tristan's mind itched and his blood began to boil when the demon came into view. His body was plated with gold from hoof to horn. His arms and wings spread wide, circling the returned at his sides.

"Aren't you a surprise?" The demon hissed. "There were to be no real warriors here this night, let alone a man who commands the shadows. This land is mine. I am tired of the dullness of Erebos' realm. I hunger for life and to taste the succulence of the famed Setessan warriors. Women in the underworld are boring. Wouldn't you agree champion of Erebos?"

Tristan's orange eyes burned with fury. He had never felt this level of hatred to this evil creature. The shadows receded to his, making it look like a mass of tendrils more than a man but nothing was solid yet.

"I don't care if you know who I am. You brought these to the mortal world. The dead belong to Erebos. They deserve to sleep, but you robbed them of peace." Tristan seethed. "That means I am going to kill you." He fought back tears of anger.

Tendrils pierced the undead stragglers. Only the demon and his masked entourage remained. They didn't flinch at Tristan's attack.

"Finished?" The demon growled. "You'll need to do better." The demon nudged his head towards Tristan.

Three returned drew their swords and charged. One was immediately brought down by Mastix. It was a decoy Tristan quickly realized the other five were poised well away from his shadow and within attacking range now. He would have to pull the whip back before striking another down.

Completely synchronized the undead attacked. Tristan ducked down and his shadow swept up, it pierced three returned necks but the other two found their target. Two gold swords found Tristan's sides and he screamed in pain. The blades were enchanted to leave excruciating pain in the wounds Tristan realized the hard way. He motioned his arms in a pantomime of hurling spears and his shadow responded with physical spears through the masks of the remaining undead. Tristan pulled a third spear from nowhere and pointed it at the demon. The point shifted into a glaive blade. "You're just making me angrier! Do you want to die monster!?" The champion of Erebos stopped trying to fight the itch in his mind and gave in to instinct. The pain had made him act on instinct.

Before the demon could answer Tristan was in his face with his glaive gliding effortlessly through the demon's wing. The wing made a wet noise when it hit the ground accompanied by the clink of gold. This time it was the demon's turn to scream.

Tristan's itching mind produced words and spells he didn't understand. These spells were different than his usual darker ones. They shined in his mind like the sun but without its fire. It was a calming silver light winding through his body and pouring from his fingers. When the light hit the demon it peeled the golden armor from the vile being and turned his skin to silver.

"What cannot be destroyed will be bound!" Tristan shouted as loud as he could.

The light cleared and Tristan stood alone. He faced the warped shape of the demon's empty twisted armor. Within it he held a massive chunk of silver. It glowed softly. Tristan absorbed the demon's essence from the newly created miniature Helvault. His mind no longer itched. His life had returned. Innistrad. Avacyn. Devil's Breach. The Skirsdag. He remembered everything and he understood the nightmare's words. He felt his new devotion to Erebos, the months of being his lackey, burn his heart. Everything about Erebos was wrong. He was no shepherd like Avacyn. He didn't care about the living or the dead, he just preferred everyone and everything be as miserable as him. The whole system made Tristan scream with rage.

So many questions swam in his mind. His last thought before the pain from his wounds overcame him was of Colin and Sophie. He had survived his martyrdom, which meant he needed to find and protect them. He began to pass out but he could hear the chuckling from his nightmare. "I told you your sorrow would return so much worse. Everyone has betrayed you now. Even you."


	3. The Silence

"Leave me alone!" Tristan shouted. He had an agent of Erebos by the throat pinned to the ground. The agent's long black robe was bloodstained and in tatters splayed out around the two. The corpses of other agents and harpies littered the high grass around the Akroan road.

"When you get back to that scum you call a god, tell him I'm through with him!" Tristan punctuated his shouting with fists in the agent's face. He stood, bloodied and bruised, his simple black robe barely hanging on his body. He hadn't eaten much in the weeks since he regained his memory. He still hadn't pieced together what had happened, how he was on Theros, and why the nightmares had taken his memories. He dropped clay coins onto the bodies and escaped the open air.

Tristan quickly darted through the small woodlands in the mountains. He had gone far in his attempt to hide from Erebos' minions. He thought the polis Akros would be a good hiding spot until he arrived to closed gates and angry guards. A small patch of trees beyond the city-state was his home now.

"I gathered berries for you to eat," a green skinned woman greeted Tristan as he collapsed in a clearing. "Nylea's lynx!" She exclaimed, "You're hurt." The dryad dropped the food and ran to the downed man.

"Sorry Mera, Erebos sent harpies this time. Damn things have some serious claws." He winced as he sat up against a stump.

Mera the dryad held leaves against his cuts and bruises. They glowed softly and the wounds began to heal. "Brutish monsters," she spat, "a mockery of birdsong's beauty. Although there isn't any of that around here to be honest."

"You don't have to take care of me. Go back to the Nessian Forest, I can handle myself."

She had been the first to find Tristan after he battled the demon. She brought him back to the forest and nursed him back to consciousness. She had stayed with him ever since.

"First of all, no you can't." Mera said, "Second of all I am Euphoran, I can do as I please. You didn't kill those wolves back then. You proved yourself a great hunter capable of ferocity and compassion."

"Fine, do as you like. Though that word, 'Euphoran,' you've used it a lot but I don't know what it means." Tristan admitted.

"It means I am a nymph brought to life by accident. I was created from Nylea's grief after a mortal she cared for died. He was a great hunter but he only hunted what he needed. He was a boon to the forest, kept others out and cared for the animals. But he was killed long ago by selfish humans who wanted the woods to themselves. More importantly, it means I have more free will than my sisters."

"I'm flattered but are you wasting that gift on protecting me?" Tristan asked with a smirk.

"I am a creation of grief, a very wasteful emotion, but a necessary one." Mera looked up to the sky, "The sun is setting; you should go to sleep."

"That," Tristan began to object, "actually sounds like a good idea. Those damn harpies he mumbled as he began drifting off.

Mera smiled at him but raised a nervous stare to the night sky. Stars began to appear but with each new glint of light in the night sky Mera's eyes watered.

"Is everything okay?" Tristan asked in a sleepy tone.

Mera shook her head quickly. Her body shimmered intensely with Nyx and she melded into a nearby tree.

Tristan sat dumbfounded for a moment but the healing magic made him drowsy. He would ask questions in the morning.

* * *

The snapping of tree trunks roused Tristan awake. His first sight of the day was a Nyx lit giant silhouetted by the rising sun. He scrambled to his feet and unfurled Mastix, Erebos' personal whip that he had refused to return. It was far enough away for him to gather up mana. Though it was the height of him five times, Tristan had no intention of backing down.

"Look out!" He heard Mera yell as he was hoisted high into an old tree behind him. Mera's arms had become vines and she pulled him beside her on a branch. "That smoke from the titan. Look at it."

Tristan's eyes went wide. A strange thick black smoke crept along the forest floor; it flowed away from the giant and killed every blade of grass it touched. The clearing was ash; the stump he slept against was gray and shriveled.

"Something else I've noticed. Look at the giant's Nyx field. It is still, unmoving and not shimmering." Mera added.

Tristan looked the dryad in the eyes, "Neither is yours!" He couldn't help but exclaim.

"Yes I have an idea about that but we have no time, we have to get out of here!" Using her vine arms she swung to the next tree. Tristan leapt to safe patch of ground, rolling as he landed. He bounded up from the roll into full sprint accompanied by Mera in the treetops.

The giant let out a low grumble. It wasn't like most monsters the cathar had faced. It wasn't ferocious; it actually looked bored as it toppled trees in its path.

"When we reach there I need you to turn left!" Tristan pointed and commanded Mera. "I have a plan!"

"Gotcha!" She responded. She had seen him command, he knew how to handle a fight.

She reached the point and slid the ground. She ran as fast as she could. The hissing smoke and rumbling ground seemed far behind her.

"Nice plan. I think it didn't spot us." Mera turned to Tristan who wasn't there. He had turned right and was successfully leading the giant in the opposite direction.

"Sorry. I needed to lead him this way. It is going to cost more trees but I have a plan!" Tristan managed to shout through the sound of the giant toppling trees. Mera was furious that he was trying to lead her to safety. And more furious that his path lead the filthy creature through a thicker patch of forest.

* * *

Tristan broke the tree line with a bound. He landed on hard stone and turned to face this giant with a slide. Behind him was his destination all along, the plateau's edge, and more importantly the open canyon far below.

"Come on!" He demanded with a crack of his stolen whip. "Hurry up! I'd like to get back to sleep!"

The lumbering giant's pace quickened. _I guess it doesn't like being yelled at. Then it really should not have woken me early. _

A broken tree flew from the tree line. Tristan rolled on his side but before he could stand the giant had cleared the forest and the black smoke behind it wafted inches from his face. The cathar shot a tendril from the shadow underneath him, propelling him away from the deadly smog. Mastix slid from his grasp and Tristan rolled to a stop beside the giant. It loomed overhead spreading its arms wide, casting a shadow over most of the clearing.

_Perfect. All that shade so far away._

A long tendril formed a spear in his hand. He didn't have time for a large one but he needed another weapon immediately. Preferably not one that took so much work to use like this now useless divine weapon.

He let the shadow spear fly and it slammed into the giant's chest. Disappointingly, blood didn't even spray out. Another tendril bent out of original arcing around behind the giant and plunging into the Nyx filled shade on its back. Stars spread from the creature's shadow down both tendrils onto Tristan's.

The shadows clenched tight on the creature's arm. They held it back long enough for him to back away and get to his feet. His Umbramancy was invigorated by the nyxborn giant's shadow, but it wasn't enough to restrain it for long.

The doomwake giant fought with its own shadow. Star filled chords tangled the giant. Tristan's magic was easily discernable; oddly enough the stars on his tendrils glittered like Nyx was supposed to. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't trying to kill Tristan.

He ran for the edge of the cliff, pebbles fell to the plains below. Tristan's eyes followed them down as they clattered onto the ground.

_Next to a leonin campsite. Avacyn take my wretched luck. Right, new plan, can't throw a giant onto these cat people._ Usually nonhumans, especially those animal related, put Tristan off, but he felt a sense of familiarity for the leonin. They were beset on all sides by things that wanted them dead, but they still fought despite not siding with the gods. They fought for themselves, and Tristan always sided with the underdogs. _Err, cats, I guess._

The cathar's smirk turned to a frown as the giant snapped the ties on its legs and charged at him.

"Not now you oaf!" Tristan shouted and spread his arms out wide to cast a larger shadow with his cloak, "I've changed strategies!" Spears of Nyx infused darkness sprang from around him. They extended from the ground into the titan's purple flesh but it barely noticed. It still looked bored even while charging. It didn't even wince when a new magic blade pierced its massive form. The spears did manage to slow it down. Tristan fired more and more spears. Dozens of arcing shadows held the giant at bay. Tristan was flanked by the threads of star filled darkness. Behind him was the cliff and in front was the titan. He reached out and grasped a line of darkness. He poured all the mana he could muster in the short amount of time through the tendril. His magic sped down the line to the giant. More and more tendrils sprang from the giant's shadow; they wove themselves into two vicious looking withered arms. Clawed fingers burst from the ends and wrapped around the giant's throat. The shadow arms were dark copies of Athreos's.

The arms pulled the giant down onto its face with a sick but satisfying crack. Tristan smirked between hyperventilating; he had never used that much Umbramancy in a single battle before. It was exhausting but it was exhilarating. He clenched his hands tight and the shade hands did the same. Absorbing that demon had done wonders for his dark magic.

He finally exhaled when he couldn't see the giant squirm anymore. It was finally dead. He closed his eyes and dispelled his shadow magic with a sigh.

"Tristan! The smog!" Mera shouted from the tree line.

But it was too late. The thick black smoke had already enveloped Tristan's legs. He shrieked in pain. It was like nothing he'd felt before, like an endless stream of claws was digging through his flesh and bone. He couldn't think of a better idea, pain tore through his mind so he jumped backward off the cliff.

Tristan heard his dryad friend shout something, probably his name or a warning. He couldn't hear it though the wind screamed louder in his ears.

He wrapped darkness around his hand, turning it into a wicked looking claw. It reminded him of hand in his nightmare dyed solid black. Long claws dug into the cliff side to slow his descent. It worked for a moment but Tristan felt his magic trickle out of his control. The shade claw melted into a dark smear on the stone and he felt at least two of his fingers break. He didn't have time to get an accurate count how many fingers before he hit the ground.

The noise of his body crashing into the vegetation startled the nearby leonin. He let out a moan of pain. Above him a leonin pointed a blade to his throat, her teeth bared in a snarl. He let out another moan.

* * *

As far as Tristan could tell he was alive and awake. Two leonin held his arms as they dragged his knees through the rough ground. They were talking amongst themselves, he couldn't understand a word. It was all meows and mumbles but he was sure they were going to make him into stew. Most every unfamiliar species Tristan knew wanted to eat humans anyway. It was a safe guess at this point.

Eventually they made it to a tent, or a cave, Tristan couldn't tell. They were definitely under a roof of some kind. The scouts presented him in front of a larger leonin. He started to see clearly, this one was bigger than the other two and much bigger than Tristan. His mane and fur were bright white. He knew little about the culture but assumed this was the clan's chef.

"Before you do anything cat man, I have on good authority that I taste terrible after a battle." Tristan wheezed through his smirk.

Silence hung in the air. The leonin that brought him in snarled but the tension vanish when the big one let out a chuckle. He slapped his leg as he laughed louder.

"Good authority?" the big leonin sputtered, "taste terrible."

The other leonin, females Tristan could tell now, exchanged a smile. One crouched to him and planted a large hand on his shoulder. "We aren't going to eat you human. I brought you to Ajani for healing. I know who you are." She assured him.

"Oh." Tristan paused, the situation just kept getting more confusing but his injuries prohibited him from much thinking. "Well that's good because that was a lie." Tristan confessed.

"So you have on good authority that you're delicious after a battle?" The one they called Ajani asked. The female by him licked her lips while staring directly at his neck.

Tristan winked at the female before losing his balance and falling on his face. "I'd really like to be healed now." He mumbled into the dirt. He looked up as the white leonin bent and flipped him onto his back. Ajani placed a hand on Tristan and channeled mana.

"You've been through a lot. And not just today it seems."

He wasn't wrong. Mera's healing magic did the trick but it was slow acting. Near constant battles with minions of death interfered with the convalescing.

"Mera!" Tristan shouted, "My friend, she's still up there. She's a dryad. Is she…" the cathar trailed off as the warm waves of healing magic poured through him. It was like no other magic he'd felt. It was like Avacyn herself was healing him. This Ajani person was good at what he did.

"Seza, could you send two scouts to find the nymph?" Ajani requested. "She too should be welcome here."

The female stood and walked out of the tent with the other female. It was just Tristan and Ajani in the tent.

"Don't worry cathar; you and your friend will be safe here." Ajani said staring into Tristan's eyes.

Tristan's expression hardened instantly. "How do you know that word? No one here knows that word but me."

"That's an awfully self-centered attitude." Ajani smirked this time. "You think you're the only one who has been to Innistrad?"

"That's a word I haven't heard in a long time. You say it like it's a place you can just take a caravan to."

"It's really more of a walk." Ajani smiled. "There are many worlds young man. Innistrad and Theros are two in an infinite number of worlds. People like us are called planeswalkers, in that we walk the roads that connect the worlds."

"I don't think I follow." Tristan's words were thick with doubt. _It's insane of course I don't follow. _"I died in Devil's Breach and then I ended up here? Is that what you're saying?"

Ajani furrowed his brow. "Severe trauma ignites the planeswalker spark. Once ignited, the spark immediately takes the planeswalker away to another world, it's kind of a kindness don't you think?"

"Yes, kind enough to send me to the Underworld. Kind enough to take away my memories." Tristan almost shouted. He broke eye contact with his healer.

Ajani's eye widened. Tristan finally noticed the grizzled leonin's left eye was ruined and a jagged scar crawled over its lid.

"Your memories? Ascensions do not rob a planeswalker of his memories. Something here on Theros must have done that. Please, tell me more." Ajani asked. Tristan didn't feel anything but compassion coming from the leonin.

"Well I used every bit of power I had left to exterminate the Skirsdag cultists in Devil's Breach but the same spell tore apart the cave and I was swallowed in a rockslide. Then I appeared on Athreos's ferry surrounded by souls of the lost. I passed out from blood loss and I awoke with no memory but an odd knowledge of Erebos among other things only someone who has lived here would know." Tristan's orange eyes began to fill with tears. He whipped them away and chuckled, "This is so frustrating. I hate dealing with problems when I can't just attack them."

Ajani planted his softly glowing hands on Tristan's shoulders. "You are young. When you're my age you'll be able to figure out your problems without punching them." The leonin chuckled.

"Punching? No way. _I'm_ not an animal. When I have a spear in my hand I can take out any monster, vampire, werewolf, skaab, or whatever Theros has." Tristan boasted with a smirk.

They both chuckled as Seza lead Mera into the tent. "Tristan," she exclaimed running to his side.

The cathar sat up quickly. Ajani's healing worked and worked fast. Before Tristan could respond Mera slapped him across the face with a hand covered in thick bark.

"I deserved that. I'll make it up to you for the forest," Mera raised her bark hand again, "among other things." Tristan held his hands up in surrender.

"Especially getting this to you," Mera plopped Mastix down into Tristan's lap with little ceremony. "Take it. I hated touching that thing."

"I'm very grateful." Tristan said as he embraced the nymph. "And to you two as well." Tristan looked at the leonin. The catfolk nodded. "uh Seza, you said you knew who I was when I got here. I've never met any leonin before today."

"Ah that." Seza said crossing her arms, "I saw what you did to that monster some time ago." She motioned to the large golden mask on the human's shoulder. "That thing terrorized our lands; I watched your battle with the returned minotaur. You slew him and have my thanks. I kept my distance; you were the champion of Erebos after all."

"That's fair. How do you know that I'm not still the champion of Erebos?"

The leonin scout bared her teeth, "You'd be dead. You killed that giant for one thing." She grabbed the handle of her club. "Buuuut."

"But some men who belonged to the God of the Underworld came looking for the stray champion." Ajani stepped forward. "Seza greeted them in her own special way."

Seza smiled, teeth still out.

"Well I cannot thank you enough." Tristan said as he wobbled to his feet. "Now if you don't mind my sleep was interrupted I could really use a bed or something."

* * *

It was all black. Darkness swirled like smoke and ash in Tristan's mind. A painfully familiar chuckle echoed from the smoke. A pair of clawed pale hands tore a hole in the dark and it shot pain through his body.

Tristan knew he was asleep in a leonin tent. He clenched his teeth but couldn't wake up. Vague shapes formed from the smoke, other beds, leonin, and one he swore was Mera sitting nearby.

"Don't bother trying to wake up. I'm very upset with you cathar." A shrouded figure emerged behind the claws. It had horn. Tristan couldn't tell what it was other than pale humanoid with claws and horns. A new breed of demon he hadn't seen yet. "You weren't supposed to figure out planeswalking so soon. Oh well. My project isn't ruined yet though I suppose." The vile chuckling resumed.

"What are you, nightmare?" Tristan demanding. It was an odd feeling using his mind to speak; what's worse was talking to this evil thing and not being able to kill it.

"Correct," The nightmare chuckled. "I am a nightmare. I'm everyone's worst nightmare. I am your fear. Your fear of failure, of being failed. Your fear of monsters, though not of the dark, you're very unique there. When you were abandoned by your angel. When you lost faith in your new god. You are ripe with fears and doubt. It's beautiful."

"Quiet!" Tristan shouted in his head. "Be quiet now." He seethed.

"Oh but we haven't gotten to my favorite. You left what few friends you have to their dooms. The Innistrad ones. The Theros ones. The man you loved and the girl who was your successor in all but blood. You abandoned them in that forest, during the full moon."

Visions of Innistrad's moon hung over the smoke. Violent images of werewolves and other horrors flashed in his head. "Colin can take care of himself and Sophie. During the full moon especially." Tristan smirked.

"Neither of us believe that cathar, but I can't have you 'walking home just yet." Tristan grew cold in his nightmare. "Especially with your little oracle friend trapped in the Underworld with no Erebos to keep her safe from-"

"If you hurt Ikana I will make sure you regret ever crawling in my head."

"We'll see cathar. We'll see."

The nightmare's grip faded and Tristan shot awake. Mera grasped his arm tightly. Her face was fearful.

"Finally! You stopped breathing and you were cold. I thought you died." She said rapidly.

"I'm fine. Though dying would have been a nice shortcut." Tristan joked. "I'm going back to the Underworld. I have to save my friend. She's trapped there and she's alive."

* * *

"Are you sure there's no way to talk you out of this?" Ajani pleaded. "Silence or not it isn't safe."

The planeswalkers stood at the edge of the leonin camp. The stars were out but stood still. The night was eerie and cold, it was comforting somehow to Tristan. It reminded him of home. He had a small pack of food and a spear Seza had lent him.

"You were the one who told us about the silence. With the gods locked in Nyx, I'll be able to get into the Underworld. Athreos being gone means nobody will be at the rivers to hold the gates." Tristan explained. "More importantly, no Erebos means this might be possible."

Ajani let out a long sigh. "Then I wish you well. Try not to end up a permanent resident."

"I hope you find your friend, Ajani." Tristan smiled. He meant it too for once. Hope was something Tristan didn't have much of anymore but he felt like inspired by the elder leonin. "Goodbye."

"I hope you find yours." Ajani reflected the cathar's smile and turned back to his tent.

As Tristan walked away he stared at the moon. It was so small and dim. _Theros has nothing on Innistrad in the moon department. I'll be back soon enough. _Tristan stopped walking.

"It took you long enough to catch up." Tristan said. "Mera I don't know if it's safe and I can't have you dying on me."

"I'm not going to die. I want to help you." Mera argued.

"You don't owe me anymore. Don't you need to look after your forest?"

"I don't need to do anything. I am Euphoran and with the silence I've never felt so free. I chose to do what I think is right. Your mission is a noble one and you need all the help you can get."

"Fine. Do what you want nymph." Tristan smirked. "Let's go."


	4. Rescue from the Underworld

The trip to the Rivers that Ring the World had been easy so far. Mera and Tristan met with no minions of Erebos. _Word has likely spread that we're too much to deal with. That or they're just scared and without a leader they thought would always be around._ Tristan had started to pity them and all worshippers of the gods. He knew too well what happens to a person when the thing they rely on the most vanishes without an explanation. He didn't like to think about it though because it always reminded him that almost everyone he knew wasn't safe.

_I'll be back soon everyone. _

"So who is this person we're rescuing from the Underworld?" Mera asked as they trekked through the swamp on the river's edge.

"Ikana. Oracle of Erebos. Or more specifically, unwilling oracle of Erebos." Tristan answered, never looking up from his path. "She was the first person I met when I arrived in the underworld, alive and devoid of my mind. She nursed me to health and was the only person I had to talk to while I was Champion of the Underworld." He continued quietly. "Between the lost souls and the undead, we kept each other sane." Tristan sighed heavily. "Erebos keeps her trapped and uses her oracle powers for I don't even want to know what."

"Despicable. It's bad enough he lords over the dead, but to kidnap living oracles." Mera spoke softly to keep from being noticed. She had draped a gray cloak similar to Tristan's around her vibrant green body. They had spotted returned earlier but managed to elude them. They weren't attentive creatures, the returned in the area were content to shamble around the in the murk.

"Yes. That was out of line." Tristan mumbled. He had begun to doubt his hatred and fear of Erebos since his last encounter with the nightmare planeswalker.

_Erebos is a dutiful warden. He teaches acceptance of suffering. He ensures the blessed sleep, but that doesn't justify everything he's done. _Tristan shook his head to try to focus on trudging through the swamp. Whenever he thought about Erebos it reminded him that he shouldn't know anything. All of the information and duty was planted there by whatever monster lurked in his nightmares. _Besides, none of this will matter soon. _He reassured himself._ Once I get Ikana to a safe place I'll be back on Innistrad. _

Mera looked at him sternly. "I'll ignore that look on your face. I just," she paused and looked away, "I just need you to tell me what I saw that night when you saved the Setessans. What was that thing and what did you do to it?" Mera's sweet voice was tainted with fear.

Magic glinted in Tristan's orange eyes at the memory of the demon. "That was a demon, creatures born of pure evil. I have a history with them." Tristan swallowed hard. "And what I did to it was absorb it. My powers run on evil energy. The more I slay the more powerful I become. But first I had to trap it in blessed silver."

"I thought Erebos was the god of gold not silver. Does he hold dominion over all metals you human lust after foolishly?" Mera questioned, mimicking Tristan's usual smirk.

_Right, blessed means a lot of different things here._

"This had nothing to do with Erebos." Tristan's words were gloomy. "I have a proficiency in another school of magic. It's based on light and protection."

Mera scoffed, "You? A wielder of light? Do you pray to Heliod in secret?"

Tristan traced the shape of the silver collar of Avacyn on his palm. He funneled his memories of faith into it and his hand filled with light. He looked at Mera, bored as it quickly flickered away. Avacynian magic didn't work well since she vanished and even less well since he wasn't on the same world anymore. "This magic was taught to me by an…" Tristan paused, looking for a parallel Mera would know. There were no angels on Theros after all. "Powerful woman. Yes back where I come from we were protected by a woman of great holy magic."

"Where are you from?"

Planeswalking was still confusing and unreal to Tristan so explaining it to Mera would have been impossible. "Asphodel." Tristan lied. "Before it became a necropolis we had a defender. Her name was Avacyn. She taught the people how to keep themselves safe from the returned."

"But something happened and the returned took it over." Mera finished.

_You have no idea how terrified I am of that being true._

"Pretty much. But her spells were passed down. Those for sealing demons and banishing undead were my specialty." Tristan swallowed hard again. "More importantly there lived a cult where I came from. They worshipped demons as gods and thought that Avacyn was a tyrant and a holy fool. My parents were influential members of that cult and conceived me for the sole purpose of creating a vessel should one of their demon lords die, but instead I grew up and used my demon power to kill them both and the rest of the cult." Tristan drifted off to mumbling, his tears of rage and sadness slowly falling into the swamp.

Mera placed a hand on his shoulder.

* * *

They walked in silence until they spotted the temple of Athreos.

"We'll find a way to get across the rivers from them." Tristan whispered.

The pair hid behind a rotted tree that marked the edge of the temple grounds. Two veiled soldiers stood watch over the odd wooden structure that was used as a temple. All of Athreos's shrines and temples were flanked by pillars of blackened wood. Most importantly there was a bridge behind the temple of Silence. Crossing the Rivers that Ring the world was the first giant hurdle they had to jump. The second was finding Ikana in the unnavigable underworld. There were no maps to the Underworld. Few living mortals came to the land of the dead; even fewer came back as themselves or with maps.

"Those are Nyxborn soldiers. Those who follow Athreos know them as aegises. We won't be catching them off guard." Tristan said annoyed. "And there's no sneaking past, these things are great guards." Tristan pulled the spear borrowed from the leonin from his back. "Stay behind me until I say." He exhaled to steady himself and sprinted to the aegises. His cloak unfurled wide and he threw the spear.

The nyxborn soldier easily blocked but Tristan was on him before it could raise its sword. His hand draped in darkness he clasped the brim of the shield. It was impressive how the human sized guards could lift their human sized shields so effortlessly. Tendrils of shadow sprung from Tristan's shadowed hands and entangled the neck of the guard. He threw the aegis down and grabbed at the next.

The aegis had inhuman reflexes. It brought its bronze sword on his arm. The shadows protected his flesh but the blow sent him into the ashen ground.

"Now Mera!" Tristan shouted before landing mouth first into the ash.

The dryad had already begun her attack when she saw her fellow nyxborn raise his sword. She too had the otherworldly reflexes of a creature born of the gods. As Tristan fell Mera began to grow in size. Still growing in strength and size she punched the shield of the aegis and sent it flying. She was the size of three nymphs when she stopped growing and brought a heel down on the back of the other.

Mera bounded to the temple and ripped the old wooden door from its hinges and threw it into the gray sky. Much to her surprise eidolons began to pour from the temple. Beyond the doorway stood a bearded man with a staff amidst the tide of star filled spirits.

The eidolon clamored and climbed all over the giant dryad as quickly as she could throw them off. Wherever a spirit touched her green skin split. Mera desperately looked for any nearby plant life to meld into to escape but this close to the rivers there was nothing.

Bright silver light came over Mera and her eidolon attacks. The spirits retreated but those not fast enough vanished under the light. Tristan had regained footing and was emitting light from both hands.

_Theros geists are still geists._

Mera jumped back behind the planeswalker and began to shrink to her normal size. She began her healing magic on her wounds.

"Stop this at once!" The old man barked from the shrine's doorway. The eidolons vanished at his words. Tristan cut short his exorcism spell.

The old man was adorned in luxurious white robs that matched his white beard but contrasted his bronze skin. He was balding and his face showed many signs of age but his posture was perfect.

"Who dares assault the temple of Athreos?" He demanded. He lowered his volume substantially. Tristan figured he was amplifying it before with magic.

"I do!" Tristan yelled as he approached. "I am Tristan!"

"I know who you are." The man's quiet voice conquered the planeswalker's shouting. "You were once champion of Erebos. You were given passage many times by Athreos to and from the underworld." His expression softened. "You are more than welcome here."

Tristan and Mera spoke in unison, "What?"

"I am Argyros, Scholar of Athreos. I came here once the gods were pulled into Nyx." He spoke quickly. Tristan grabbed his borrowed spear and cautiously followed him into the temple. Mera was close behind.

Argyros continued speaking, "I came to help shepherd the lost souls and assist the oracle here any way I could."

"Oracle?" Mera asked.

"Yes." A new voice rang from the unlit temple. "I am the oracle Chrysos." Argyros lit the chamber to reveal a man not much younger than Tristan lying on a couch. He had unkempt blond hair and wore only a black sheet from his ribs to his knees.

"Please sit Champion." The older man cleaned litter from another couch. Litter wasn't a strong enough word. The entire temple was cluttered with items of gold and silver.

"Is he the one, Argyros?" the oracle asked.

"I believe he is."

"What is going on!?" Tristan barked. It was like they were ignoring him.

Chrysos shushed him. He held an arm out vaguely in the scholar's direction. "Sit him down next to me."

Tristan finally noticed the oracle's eyes. They were milky white. Chrysos was blind.

The older man grasped onto Tristan's arm to escort him. "Let go, I don't need you to navigate me." Tristan shook off the scholar's grip. The chamber was not very big.

_These two are getting on my nerves._

He glanced at Mera. Her face seemed to say "can I please pummel these two and continue." She looked very uncomfortable. He responded with an apologetic expression and walked to the oracle. He was thin and pale but certainly not ugly. If he hadn't been so very creepy, Tristan may have found him attractive.

The planeswalker sat down on the gold trimmed couch. "So what is going on here?" He asked

Chrysos shushed him again. Tristan scowled. "Argyros, over here." He commanded again as he stood up. Tristan looked away as he adjusted himself. He wrapped the sheet around himself. "Excuse me." He mumbled sarcastically as he sat back down. Tristan cringed.

Argyros stopped before the two sitting on the couch. He handed the oracle his walking stick. "Here Chrysos." He almost whispered.

"Alright I demand some answers now!" Tristan commanded again. The oracle winced and shushed him again.

"Can't you be impatient quietly?" Chrysos asked. "You are very loud, Champion."

The older man nodded and whispered. "Please watch your volume. The oracle Chrysos blinded himself and has very sensitive hearing."

"Blinded himself? Who would do that?" Mera asked from across the chamber.

"Indeed." The seated oracle answered. "Athreos is a quiet god. He communicates in near silence so I blocked out my mortal sight so my god-senses could flourish."

"Did that work?" Mera's sweet voice was heavy with concern. This place was worrying her, Tristan could tell. In all honesty it was very unsettling to him too.

"It did. At least until Kruphix enacted the Silence. Now I am but a blind sorcerer on the edge of the underworld." Chrysos admitted. "Athreos knew the Silence was coming however so he took many precautions. He knew you would be here Champion. He knows you share his devotion to duty and commanded me to ask for your help."

Much to Tristan's displeasure, the oracle clumsily found Tristan's leg with his free hand. The walking stick in the other trembled slightly with magic.

"As much as I respect Athreos, I don't have time to help. I need to use the Silence to find my friend and rescue from the God of the Underworld." Tristan stood.

"Athreos thought as much and has ordered me to offer you a bargain." Chrysos pulled him back to the couch by the arm. "If you agree to help, the God of Passage will show you to your friend."

"What?" Tristan exclaimed.

"Shh! You really need to stop shouting." Chrysos clenched his hand on Tristan's arm. "You must complete an ordeal of Athreos. On the river beyond this one sits an empty ferry. It was plundered by a group of Returned. They've set up some kind of stronghold on the bank. Without Athreos giving them passage, the dead are becoming prey to the Returned."

"And becoming returned themselves." Tristan concluded angrily.

"Correct. They are led by Cherendemos. An oracle of Athreos like myself who died long ago. He became a returned to spite the God of Passage for likely some imagined slight." Chrysos furrowed his brow. "End him and his undead followers and you will find oracle Ikana."

"So be it," Tristan whispered. He pulled the staff from Chrysos's hand and stood. Mera was already on her feet and walking toward the exit. "I will bring a peaceful rest to the stronghold and finish this ordeal. Thank you Chrysos, Argyros." Tristan nodded to the two strange men at the edge of the world of the living and crossed the rickety bridge to the gray waste beyond.

* * *

Gold masked undead stumbled around the stronghold's walls, which appeared to be made of precious metals. Gold was plentiful in the underworld and the signature of the returned. The zombies waddled to and fro under the ashen sky. It looked like drunkards were left in charge of guard duty.

_Newly returned._ Tristan deduced. They lacked purpose and intellect of those who'd been long since reborn. _Poor souls._

"What's the plan of attack?" Mera whispered.

"Gold is a weak metal. I was thinking of casting a giant shadow and breaking into the place." Tristan admitted with a sigh.

"Finally a plan I like." Mera beamed. "You never give me the chance be wild though. I'll get us in. Then you can show me how wild you get." The nymph ran full speed at the golden walls. Each time she lifted a foot from the gray dirt it came down on the next step twice the size. She towered over the wall by the time she got to it.

Mera grinned wildly and chuckled, although her magic made her voice was much more primal, Tristan could still hear the sweet voice from the forest those many months ago. He ran as he gathered more black mana than he'd ever felt before, the mana of the Underworld was potent. Tristan had forgotten the power it gave his shadow magic.

Mera's giant limbs sent undead flying into the gray sky as Tristan ran under the dryad and into the stronghold. His body ached holding back the spell. It was mostly empty but for a few shacks made from scavenged wood from the abandoned ferry. Tristan's entire eyes became black with Umbramancy. He grinned wide when he felt he could no longer restrain the summoning spell. Darkness exploded from the planeswalker, filling the stronghold with writhing columns. Reptilian heads burst from the ends and gnashed their teeth. The hydra shade whirled and twisted. Heads of varying sizes erupted from the core body and snatched undead before they could process being ripped apart.

A hydra head crashed down on the only standing shack. Walls became splinters. An orb of light dissipated in the wreckage. A masked returned stood in the open air. His mask was a mock image of Athreos even adorned with a solid gold veil.

_No doubt this is Cherendemos._

"Dog of Athreos." Cherendemos wheezed, "Another lost to the tattered god." His voice was chilling.

Only hate remains. Tristan scowled. His vision went red. Mera's thunderous stomping sounded distant. His shadow hydra slammed against the walls but it made no sound to Tristan. With one swift move Tristan brought Chrysos's staff into the returned's mask. Cracks spread as he stumbled back. Another blow from the side of the staff sent the golden veil into the debris.

Cheredemos's true face was grotesque. Empty eye sockets and a lipless mouth were thankfully obscured by the dim light in the underworld. Tristan snarled.

"Shared fate. Duty unrewarded." The zombie coughed. Black ichor oozed out of its wounds and face holes. "Pointless suffering."

Tristan silenced the returned with his staff. He brought the butt of it down onto the thing's head. More of the rotting black slime sprayed him. Hatred boiled in Tristan's mind. He tossed aside the staff and pounded the corpse with his bare hands.

"Tristan, stop!" Mera shouted. She pulled him off and pushed him into the debris. "It's gone! Snap out of it!"

His senses began to return. Cherendemos was nothing more than gold and robes and a stain on the ground. He grabbed the staff and propped himself up.

"Thanks," he breathed, "Now how does Athreos send us to Ikana?" The shade hydra melted back into the darkness around them.

"I'm not sure. Do you need healing?" Mera asked. Tristan noticed she had already healed her own wounds. They were softly glowing.

"No," he looked up and down his body, "I'm just exhausted. That was kind of fun before it started talking." Tristan nodded his head at the mess.

"You were a proper warrior of the forest." Mera grinned.

"Yeah, I," Before Tristan could finish, the staff turned to light. He lost his balance and landed on a small ship. It was barely wide enough for him. It glowed with green Nyx. It lifted up off the ground, humming with magic.

"Shall we?" Tristan was almost asking himself too. He offered her a hand and a wink. She looked at it and raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" She stepped onto the boat herself. When she sat it was already Tristan's height off the ground. "Do know how to navigate this thing?"

"Not at all." Tristan leaned back against the front wall of the boat and smirked. "Magic boat, take us to Ikana." He commanded.

The ferry levitated and began to spin. "Oh no." Mera muttered. It spun faster and produced a cloud of Nyx magic.

"Oh no." Tristan repeated.

* * *

"Nylea's Lynx!" Mera shouted as the boat's spinning began to slow. The pair departed sloppily before the ship came to a halt.

They stood to see world around them had changed. The light of the sulfurous rivers was nowhere to be seen. This was much deeper in the Underworld. Marble columns stood but supported nothing. Large stone heads littered the area. Everything man made was in terrible disrepair. The sky was its usual gray smoke but the ground was jagged stone.

"Tristan!?" Ikana exclaimed. She was seated on the forehead of a stone face nearby. This one was different. It had a golden mask, mimicking a returned.

"Ikana!" Tristan bounded to his feet and went to embrace his friend, but she lifted a hand in protest.

"Don't!" She commanded. "Don't touch the mask. It's enchanted. I can't get up. Erebos vanished so I tried to leave but I ended up here." She shrugged.

"I'll be fine, don't worry." Tristan crouched in front of the face. He held a hand out almost against the gold. Avacynian magic welled up in his palm. He winced. Channeling mana felt like broken glass trying to flow through his veins. The shadow hydra really did a number on him. "This is a simple curse I'll have it gone in no time." He assured her.

_Wait. This magic isn't Theran._

Before Tristan could finish his thought a chill crawled up his spine. It was familiar. The cold from his nightmares had caught up to him while awake.

"Hello Black Cathar." The voice of his nightmares spoke aloud. Hearing it with his ears was somehow worse than with his mind. "You got here quick.

Tristan stood and turned to face the direction of the voice. Atop a cliff stood, no floated, a humanoid with pale blue skin. The nightmare creature had a mouth but above that the head was a cloud of darkness emitting from between two large horns. The nightmare wore unfamiliar unsettling clothes and otherworldly accessories. Familiar clawed hands were spread wide in greeting.

"I am Ashiok, Nightmare Weaver." Ashiok spoke as the planeswalker floated down to inches above the ground.

"So you show your face monster?" Tristan barked. "Or what's left of it."

Ashiok grinned. Tristan's blood froze. "Your fear is even more beautiful in person," Ashiok's head tilted, "but you bottle it away so far from the surface. Tsk tsk."

Magic surged in the air. It was suffocating. Tristan, Mera, and Ikana lost balance and fell. The cathar grasped at his throat. He opened his mouth to scream but no noise came out.

Ashiok flicked a wrist upward and the dark shroud around the planeswalker began to spread. "Show me your nightmare." Ashiok grinned.

Pain shot through Tristan's entire body. He screamed silently again. This time the same black vapor that surrounded Ashiok poured from his agape mouth. It rose in the air and coalesced into a painfully familiar shape. Erebos's gigantic floating head appeared in the vapor. Before long Erebos's entire form appeared beside Ashiok. The nightmare god towered over the smiling planeswalker.

"I am not afraid of dying!" Tristan coughed.

"You're afraid of power and more specifically when those in power betray you." Ashiok corrected. The nightmare weaver swirled the vapor around them and the false Erebos convulsed. His jaw unhinged and white feather sprang forth.

"No." Tristan cried. He could feel Ashiok's magic gnawing at his mind.

"And what would be worse for you than your beloved Avacyn finding out your origin?" Ashiok goaded.

"Tristan what's going on?" Ikana pleaded. "Get me down from here"

A familiar spear sprang form the mass of feathers in the nightmare's mouth, followed by two white wings and a black clad arm. Avacyn's upper body crawled from the thing's mouth and screamed.

"A work of art." Ashiok beamed with pride. "We should always work together cathar."

"Tristan, snap out of it," Mera shouted as she shook the planeswalker. "We have to go. Now!" He didn't hear her. He had fallen to his knees and was staring at his nightmare. "Useless!" She scoffed and ran to Ikana.

The Nymph put her hands on the mask, despite Ikana's objections. Ivy sprouted and ensnared the mask. Mera forced magic through the ivy and dispelled the ensnaring curse. "Help me get him to the ferry. That monster is too distracted to command the other one."

"Right." Ikana slid off the stone face and they ran to Tristan. They began to lift them when Ashiok interrupted them.

"What do you insignificant women think you are doing?" Ashiok questioned as the black vapor from Ashiok's head crawled towards them. "The cathar is mine. His fear is perfect."

The Erebos monster lurched forward and grabbed for Tristan's friends. Its giant hands split into an uncountable number of human sized arms that grabbed Mera and Ikana. Tristan stood and lobbed the wall of hands off at the wrist. The severed hands returned to vapor once severed. His leonin spear was stained black.

"It doesn't matter that I am afraid. It doesn't matter how powerful they are, if someone threatens my friends they are going to die!" Tristan shouted.

Ashiok's mouth twisted in rage. The nightmare god retched. The Avacyn thing erupted out and flew to attack Tristan. It was supported by the Erebos monster's tongue which grotesquely fused with the angel's legs.

Tristan parried but the nightmare was strong. It left no openings and Tristan's mind was still weighed down with Ashiok's magic. His body was exhausted and he had no black mana left to channel.

"Afraid or not I can't lose!" Tristan screamed but the fake angel was too quick. It deflected his spear and swept his feet with its own. He fell hard onto his back, knocking the air out his body.

Hatred welled up in Tristan's heart. He hated Ashiok. He hated Avacyn for disappearing. He hated the Erebos and all the gods for letting something like this happen. But mostly he hated himself for being afraid and for being powerless. All Tristan could do was scream.

"Kill his friends. Bring him to truest despair." Ashiok commanded the nightmare god. While the Avacyn held its spear tip to Tristan's throat. The greater monster renewed its thousand hands and turned to Tristan's friends but Mera was its size when it found them. Ikana stood, arms wide in the air, glowing green behind the titanic Nymph. She poured her magic and life force into the dryad. Mera delivered a punch to the nightmare god's throat and it tumbled backward pulling the angle part with it and freeing Tristan.

"I have no fear of you monsters!" Mera roared. She brought her other fist down onto the monster's chest and swatted back the nightmare angel.

Ashiok grimaced. Lifting a hand to the sky, Ashiok called the nightmare awake. It grasped Mera with its uncountable hands and the two began to wrestle in the blackened earth of the Underworld. Ashiok pointed a claw towards Ikana. She let out a scream and fell to her knees but she held the spell strong on Mera.

"Enough of this stalling." Ashiok grinned. The air charged with magic.

"Enough talking!" Tristan commanded. He was in front of Ashiok, holding the nightmare weaver's clawed wrist in his blackened left hand.

From his shadowed eyes black tendril made their way around Tristan's body. His forehead was glowing silver in the shape of Avacyn's collar. He had nullified Ashiok's mind magic enough to focus on pulling more mana from the underworld. He used that mana to create a system of shadows to move his weakened body at inhuman speed.

He flicked his wrist and snapped Ashiok's like a twig. The other planeswalker yelped in pain. Ashiok's other claw came up and sliced Tristan's face. The pain shook his concentration long enough for Ashiok to wrap him in his dread vapor. It was excruciating. Any concentration he had left was gone, along with his spells.

"It saddens me to lose a source of inspiration, but you are too much hassle alive." Ashiok scoffed as the vapor blanketed the two planeswalkers. It invigorated Ashiok. It sucked the life from Tristan. The pain was maddening.

"So are you." Ikana said as she plunged a small dagger into Ashiok's side. The black vapor fell to the ground revealing a green woman sprinting full force at Ashiok.

Mera was normal size, but she was always fast. She leapt over Tristan, who was coiled into a ball on the stone. Mera kicked Ashiok in the horn on the side where Ikana stood. She crawled down and lifted Tristan from the vapor and dragged his limp body away. Mera landed and delivered a punch to the Nightmare Weaver's gut.

"That poison won't last long! Help me carry him!" Ikana yelled.

Mera obliged. They managed to pile into the boat when Ashiok recovered. Ashiok's mouth was twisted in pain and anger. The Nightmare beast had recovered from its battle with Mera. It was covered in rubble. Both were encroaching fast on the trio.

"Tristan, wake up!" Ikana yelled.

"The stupid boat only listens to you!" Mera was shaking the planeswalker.

"Take us out of here." Tristan mumbled between coughs. "Now!"

A cloud of Nyx appeared and the dim light of the underworld vanished.

* * *

Tristan was unconscious. The fighting had taken almost everything from him. But he was at peace. It seemed Ashiok's hold on his mind and dreams was gone.

He slowly woke up to the sound of birds. He was in under the sun and blue sky.

_That's a nice change._

He sat up. Every one of his muscles begged him not to. He was covered in Mera's healing leaves he realized.

"We thought it would be better than my brand of healing spell." Ikana said cheerfully. She was next to him. Her feet dangled in lake. "We cleaned you up after the boat brought us to the Nessian Forest. Mera said this is where you two met?"

Tristan grunted in confirmation. "Thank you. Thank you both."

"I should be the one thanking you." Ikana looked up and grinned at Mera who had walked over. "Both of you. Mera is letting me stay here."

"That's good. It's good to have friends." Tristan smirked.

"Indeed," Ikana said sarcastically as she watched Mera sit down between them. "You should get to sleep."

Tristan agreed and lied back down. He heard the two women talking but tiredness mumbled their words in his ears. The sun was bright and Tristan wasn't used to it. He wearily pulled his left hand up to his face. Something felt odd on his hand and he opened his eyes. The skin on his hand was black and leathery. His nails were solid gold and pointed. Tristan stared at it in bewilderment.

_That can't be good_.


End file.
